


10th Polis

by BlackWaves



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Clexa, College, F/F, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:46:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWaves/pseuds/BlackWaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke and her friends prepare for a large party on campus. Lexa attends as well, distracting Clarke from her relationship issues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	10th Polis

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is my first go at writing (anything in a while, actually). Please be gentle, your feedback is greatly appreciated :) This is also turning out to be at least 2 parts, and I promise there will be a lot of intense action in the next one if you guys like it enough for me to give it a go. Please comment, I'll die if you don't lol.   
> I wanted to explore the whole friendship dynamic that was in my head and this is the result.  
> I'll just let ya'll read it for yourselves :) 
> 
> Enjoy.

Clarke Griffin was losing her mind slowly as the hours passed. She was beside herself with worry and excitement. It was 3:00 in the afternoon on a surprisingly warm March day. Her and her friends sat at a circular table at the residence cafeteria enjoying what would be breakfast for the majority of them, lunch for herself. She poked distractedly at the salad she had eagerly piled on her plate only moments earlier. Her mind was elsewhere. Bellamy and Lincoln were playing a disgusting game of dare consisting of bringing together different types of food and forcing each other to eat it. The table erupted in snorts of laughter as Bell gagged on the last spoonful of a bowl of something brown and chunky.

“He’s gunna puke,” Lincoln shouted over the laughter. Monty clapped Bell on the back. He spoke to his friend slowly and carefully as if he were a coach. 

“All you need to do is swallow it. This is the last one,” he said among many other comforting words. Bellamy closed his eyes, visibly steeling himself, and did as he was told. Afterwards he shot Lincoln a satisfied smile.

“Wow, congratulations bro,” Octavia said sarcastically. “See, these are the lifelong skills our parents pay thousands of dollars for us to learn”.   
Usually, Clarke would be right there egging her friends on. Today, though, she couldn’t quite concentrate. 

Today was the day their upper-year residence floor, 10th Polis, threw the biggest party of the year—a Polis residence tradition. The social media invitations were getting a bit out of hand and Clarke feared it would be shut down before it even began, but that wasn’t the biggest cause of her uneasiness. Her ex-girlfriend would be there. As Clarke’s friends had pointed out earlier in the week, though, Clarke had an entire floor to avoid Jen with. There was no real chance of them crossing paths, perhaps only briefly in the hallways. The problem was that the breakup had been messy, and Clarke was majorly at fault. She just didn’t want to face her. They hadn’t spoken since before the summer holiday and it was mid March now. This reunion would not be pleasant. 

Clarke looked around at her group of friends. Fourth-year looked good on all of them. There were six of them there: Bellamy, Lincoln, Monty, Octavia, Raven, and herself.   
Clarke, Monty, Bellamy, and his sister Octavia had been inseparable since high school. They had gotten into the same college and had managed to make the friendship work all this time. Lincoln and Octavia met during their first year while playing for a recreational rugby team and had dated ever since. Raven had been roommates with Clarke since first year, and it was amazing how easily she had slipped into their circle.

These were the people Clarke wanted to spend the rest of her life with. She was incredibly happy with how randomly their friendships seemed to have formed. She considered herself extremely lucky. 

Right now, though, she wanted to speak to her best friend alone. The three boys had their heads together now, focused on a phone placed on the table between them. Clarke couldn’t quite hear their quiet conversation from the other end of the table, but it was definitely about soccer. It was always about soccer. 

“Hey, Bell,” She called to the boy in the middle. He looked up startled, as if he were being called back from another universe. He was quite handsome, and his ignorance to this was one of the many things Clarke loved about him. For example, right now he wore a tank-top, bright pink shorts, and flip flops. Yet his clothes were too tight, accentuating his physique. His pink shorts were charming, making him look carefree. Bellamy had wild, curly, black hair, a perfect example of looking nearly perfect without any effort—Clarke was the one who had dragged him out of bed only minutes ago. He was complex, intentionally carrying himself more like an overgrown child than an adult. There was depth to him, and this was the Bellamy that Clarke needed right now. 

She gestured to the main doors and he nodded. They broke away from the group promising to meet up soon, and walked out into the warm spring air. Bellamy didn’t speak. He knew Clarke had a lot on her mind, and he was just as nervous for tonight as she was. He didn’t want to think about how serious the break up was. He had been there through the highs and the lows. No one else knew how badly Clarke had really handled it, not even Raven. He had picked Clarke up from dirty bar floors countless times; held her hair back while she vomited alcohol and pain at 4 am. They were best friends, and Bellamy would walk through fire for Clarke. She was getting better. He had to make sure she faced her emotions in a positive way. 

Clarke pulled out a cigarette from her bag and lit it. Bellamy said nothing. It was better than the alternative. No one else knew Clarke smoked, and he was honoured to keep the secret. He took one for himself as well. These were the quiet moments he loved. They walked on in silence through campus towards Polis, enjoying the weather. The snow was finally beginning to melt, exposing muddy land where grass would eventually grow and leaving puddles haphazardly on the concrete. But the birds were back and the leaves were growing as well, indicating that spring was finally here. The winter had not been pleasant and Bellamy missed home. Even after four years away he still hadn’t gotten used to how cold it could truly get up here. 

Clarke let out a nervous laugh, distracting Bellamy from his thoughts. It wasn’t aimed at him, though, her mind was racing. 

Bellamy could read Clarke as if he were inside her head. She didn’t like getting sentimental and mushy during her anxiety attacks. All she needed was solid advice. He knew she had been thinking for days. Now she needed someone else’s voice in her head besides her own—a voice that was unwavering and truthful.   
“You’ll be fine, just don’t speak to her. Stick with me”. He drove his point home with short, meaningful sentences. The less preaching, the better. 

“Alright, thanks Bellamy”.   
“Do you want to go hang out in my room?” He asked, throwing a large, heavy arm around his smaller friend.  
“Yeah,” Clarke laughed. All they did in Bell and Monty’s room was smoke weed and play video games. She needed to mentally prepare herself for this evening, and hanging out with her best friend for a few hours would definitely do the trick. 

 

After a long day of last-minute drug and alcohol runs, shameless bribery, invitation confusions, and many misunderstandings, 10th Polis was finally ready to host a party. With no sign of campus security by 7 pm, the implicit green light was heeded.   
Clarke and her friends were in Bellamy and Monty’s dorm room on 6th Polis getting ready to make an appearance upstairs. Raven was picking out an outfit for Monty, Bellamy rolled a joint while shouting music recommendations to an exasperated Lincoln, and the girls had taken over the bathroom to finish getting ready. 

“Pick something please,” Raven yelled over her shoulder at Lincoln who kept skipping songs. “Why are you even listening to Bellamy?”   
“Do I look ok, guys?” Monty asked the room.   
Bellamy chuckled, “Is Nathan still coming? Has he texted you yet?” He threw out a reference to a few years ago when Monty was head-over-heels in love with Nathan, the event affectionately named the Texting Debacle or by extension, The Date. The whole group had banded together to make Monty’s dream come true, to no avail. Monty had screwed up months of effort in only one date. It was fourth-year now, though, and Monty was trying again because he had nothing to lose. Like Clarke, he had a lot riding on the success of this party.   
“Don’t be an ass,” Raven snapped at Bellamy. “He’s already so nervous.”   
It was true, Monty had changed his outfit three times before Raven took pity on him and decided to choose for him. He had already taken two showers in the span of a few hours and if Raven didn’t help him soon, he would compulsively take another one.   
“Not as nervous as Clarke, though,” Monty said lightly, gesturing to the closed bathroom door.   
Bellamy stood and stretched, itching to take the conversation off Clarke. “Why do all my friends suck at relationships so much?” he called out lazily. He lit the joint and walked to the bathroom where Octavia and Clarke had set up their make-up station. 

Bellamy knocked on the door with mock politeness. “My queens,” he bellowed, putting on a surprisingly good stereotypically British accent. Years of theatre and literature studies had definitely left an imprint on his personality. His entire life was a stage. “Will you be joining us in the ceremonial pre-event smoke, or are you planning on staying in the washroom all night? You don’t want to miss seeing certain people, do you, Clarke?”   
He was met with loud though muffled requests to fuck off, but seconds later the door opened and Clarke stepped out.   
She looked incredible. She usually did, but there was something about the way she was dressed tonight. Her outfit was all black; a short-sleeved top that stopped just above her bellybutton and a long black skirt with a slit down the side that started mid-thigh. There was something dangerous about her look. She was evidently out for blood. Octavia had done incredible work with her make-up.   
Everyone stared at Clarke and Octavia in silence for a few seconds. They had on similar outfits, though Octavia wore a white version of Clarke’s shirt. Both girls rarely dressed up except to go out. It was a bit much for what was practically a house party, but they had guaranteed that they would be the best dressed in Polis that evening. Their skin seemed to be glowing, Octavia’s darker complexion contrasting Clarke’s paler skin tone. They looked good together.   
As always, Bellamy was the first to recover.   
“What have you done to my bathroom?” He pushed into the tiny room, taking in the damage. The floor was littered with clothing, make-up was spilled all over the countertop, there was hair on every surface, and even the mirror was smudged. The heat from multiple showers and the hair straightener left the bathroom humid and uncomfortable.  
“Monty, we gotta stop letting these guys get ready in our bathroom. We never learn.”  
Octavia pushed past him into the small dorm room and went to sit on Lincoln’s lap. His arms were outstretched expectantly and she slipped easily into his hold. They fit well together, as if they were made for each other.   
Bellamy was relentless. He truly was upset about the state of his bathroom, even though it was constantly disgusting. “Hey, are you gunna clean up after yourselves?”  
“When will you shut the hell up?” Octavia drawled, throwing a foam basketball at his head. She didn’t miss, she never did. 

The conversation turned to other topics as the group began drinking to prepare themselves for the night. Inevitably, however, talk came back to Clarke’s relationship, to her annoyance.The group had decided that it was time to strategize for the night. Mostly when they came up with game-plans, the majority of the time was spent roasting each other as opposed to actually coming up with a plan. This time was no different. No joke was spared, regardless of how private or intimate the subject was. Raven told stories of Clarke and Jen coming home drunk many times and having loud, awkward sex at the beginning of their relationship. Octavia brought up the Valentine’s Day Debacle, a month-long situation where Clarke and Jen almost broke up due to an incident involving a stuffed bear, a gold necklace, and quite a lot of money. Monty, always the sweetheart, chastised Clarke for breaking Jen’s heart, and Lincoln reminded everyone of how Clarke had bailed on many plans just to be with Jen. This last point was one everyone seemed to agree with.   
Clarke was unperturbed. These stories were nothing new—Clarke’s friends had no reservations about telling each other how they felt.

The universal opinion was that Clarke was at fault and deserved whatever Jen had planned for her. However, her friends would help them avoid each other at all costs. They agreed to alert one another when Jen did arrive, and to take shifts in keeping an eye on both Clarke and Jen. Bellamy would be her right-hand man for the night as he usually was, and Octavia called dibs on reconnaissance duty. 

Next, they moved on to Monty, since he needed a game-plan as well. Once again, they roasted their friend into oblivion, cracking jokes about his shy nature and reenacting his date with Nathan Miller as they had witnessed it from across the bar in a dark booth near the bathrooms. Bellamy was at it again with the surprisingly accurate impersonations.   
The plan eventually hatched was that they would pinpoint Miller’s location and take turns talking-up Monty to him. Lincoln would be his right-hand man for the evening. Miller knew about their strange group dynamic, and after the Date was well aware of their efforts to set them up. He had actually spotted the group from across the bar very early on in The Date but had let them interfere anyway. The consensus now was that it would be endearing of them to be as obvious about Monty’s attraction as possible. Since he had agreed to come to the party with Monty, it meant Miller was giving him (and by extension, the rest of the group) a second chance. 

Clarke decided to engross herself in Monty’s plan. It would give her a sense of purpose for the night. She needed something to take her mind off Jen, and this would work, as long as she kept drinking. 

 

An hour and another joint later, the group was finally ready to go upstairs. They crammed into the small elevator with some acquaintances who were heading up to 10th Polis as well. Even before they doors opened, they could hear rambunctious laughter and the heavy bass of a speaker system. 

 

Balloons littered the hallways and streamers were taped randomly on the walls in a feeble attempt at decorating. Everyone made their way to the common room to the left of the elevators since that was where the music was coming from. A few doors along the hallway were wide open and they passed smaller groups of friends doing what they had been downstairs, generally getting ready and talking amongst themselves.

 

The common room was dark, illuminated only by the bright florescent lights of the hallway. Chips, soda, and many bottles of alcohol sat on a table that had been pushed to one side of the room. The couches had been moved as well, making a small circle at the wall opposite the table. Above them, an old episode of The Simpsons was playing on mute. The set-up left room for a substantial dance floor in the middle, and the speaker system blaring hip-hop sat in a corner. It belonged to a fellow floor-mate, and Clarke could see him bent over now, fussing over it protectively. There weren’t too many people and the couches were free, so after saying hello to some kids they knew, they all sat down. 

Clarke was feeling incredible. She was genuinely happy and exited to see how the party turned out. She retreated from the conversation and glued her eyes to the t.v., enjoying the muted episode. She began to stop worrying—everything would be fine. Her friends were happy and chatting away. She looked more than just good and didn’t fear seeing her ex girlfriend. In fact, she looked forward to it.   
The sound of the common room door opening brought Clarke back from thoughts. She looked up just in time to make eye contact with the girl that just walked in.   
Her eyes were bright green and unwavering, and she stared unapologetically at Clarke with a look of casual curiosity on her face. Her black hair, lit up by the lights behind her, made it seem as if she wore a halo. However, her all-black outfit gave off a sense of danger or at the very least, intense power. Clarke was genuinely shocked by her entrance. 

Lexa had arrived.


End file.
